I killed my brother! I didn’t mean to. He was sitting at the door, looking quite white, and holding an apple. He wouldn’t give it to me so I went to my mother and I told her that my brother was sitting at the window, looking quite white, and he wouldn’t give me the apple.
“Give him a box on the ear,” she said. So I did, and I knocked his head off!
Then Mother chopped him up and made him into a black pudding. Father came home and ate it all, every bit of it, and threw the bones under the table.
I gathered them up into my best silk handkerchief, and went outside. Weeping tears of blood, I lay the bones on the green grass under the juniper tree.